


Twenty-nine

by little_frodo



Category: Actor RPF, Green Street Hooligans | Hooligans (2005)
Genre: First Kiss, Love, M/M, Minor Character Death, Real Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 06:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6894046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_frodo/pseuds/little_frodo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, death is always like a fever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty-nine

Pete was five when he got his first punch in the face.  
It didn't broke his nose, but it almost felt like it.

 

He was six, when he finally hit back and learned that it felt good to be strong.  
That he was not made out of glass.

 

He was thirteen when he got his first kiss. The girl he kissed was smaller and beautiful, but it felt weird, those moist, full lips and her hot breath against his skin.

 

He was sixteen when he came to the GSE for the first time, with his older brother Steve. He knew, from now on, that this was his life.

 

He just turned 22, when he became the top boy of the firm. Football and the GSE was all he wanted in life. 

 

He was 27 when he met Matt.  
Matt was different, and Matt was beautiful. But Matt was a Yankee, pale and weak and not able to keep up with the group.

 

He was still 27 when he got his second first kiss, in the middle of the night on the couch, and it was with Matt. Matt felt good against his skin, Matt felt amazing, and it was one of the best things he has ever experienced when he felt Matts body close to him.

When he kissed and bit Matts neck, heard Matt moaning in pleasure when they were finally sinking down on the soft leather, pressing their bodies tight together - so tight, that there was nothing but the heat of their skins between them - then he felt complete.

 

Pete was 29 when he died, beat up and breathless on muddy ground, with nothing but Matts voice and shouts next to him. 

Dying felt not that bad, because he knew that it was Matt who was holding his head and cried.

Dying felt easy, like the first punch he made when he was six.

Dying was like a fever that was finally healed with love.


End file.
